


your eyes on me

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Hank Anderson (D:BH), Kind of a character study, M/M, Markus is understanding at least, North (D:BH) - Freeform, Simon (D:BH), even more fluffy stuff, hardcore pining on Connor's part, mentions of josh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Connor's innocent hobby of watching people happens to turn into something else, now that the focus of his attention is Markus.





	your eyes on me

**Author's Note:**

> well, there I go writing again

Connor has always gravitated towards spending his free time alone. It’s not a conscious decision but it’s almost guaranteed that when he’s not engaged in an investigation or following Lieutenant Anderson around, he’s most likely found a semi-quiet place for himself where he can just think, analyze and assess.  
  
On one hand, he goes through case files, reviews evidence, runs diagnostics and tests his dexterity by playing with a quarter that he’s yet to admit that he’d gotten attached to. On the other though, after he’s gone through and exhausted all of his other options, Connor is drawn to watching people above anything else.

He gets caught staring by androids and humans alike, and quite often at that. Sometimes he lets himself get caught on purpose, for the sole objective of seeing what reaction it might get out of an individual. And no response is the same- that’s what it fuels him continue. They’re all different, even if just by the speed at which someone blinks or squints.

When it comes to androids, Connor has taken a liking to observing their personal quirks; even if they may be the same model and look fairly similar, each one had a particular way of standing, sitting, talking and so on. It’s hard even for Connor’s memory to retain all the possibilities.

So at one point he just stops altogether.

Simply watching becomes a soothing activity and for once, his mind can get close to blank.

\---

It’s when his eyes accidentally find Markus for the first time, looking relaxed and carefree as he talks with his inner circle,  Connor has to stop in his tracks so abruptly that he can almost hear the sound of tires screeching in his head. He’s used to seeing a stoical and detached Markus so the brief glimpse of him throwing his head back as he laughs catches him completely off guard. His eyes seem to shine with mirth and when another bout of laughter seizes him, his shoulders shake with laughter and he doubles over, using an equally hysterical Josh to support himself.

And Connor realizes that he doesn’t really know Markus that well, that he’s barely scratched the surface when it comes to him.

Finding out more becomes a goal and Markus turn into the sole focus of his thoughts when he’s not busy.

\---

During important speeches and talks with human negotiators, Markus is very professional, a perfect example of calm and self control; he is driven and confident and stops at nothing to achieve a goal. He doesn’t realize he chews on the end of his pen when he’s focused or deep in thought or that he bounces his leg when something is getting on his nerves. Markus is expressive in the most subtle ways and Connor likes to think he’s the one of the few who pay attention to those details.

But when Markus is not stressed or under any kind of pressure, his whole personality tends to change; his true colors come to light, from where they were previously shoved under a sober blanket of patience.

Everything about him becomes more open and he actually smiles, a contagious expression that spreads to the people he’s talking to like wildfire. With the ones he’s close with, such as Simon, North and Josh, Markus doesn’t shy away from showing affection. Whenever Connor spots them together, Markus’ arm is usually slung over one of their shoulders or he’s leaning his weight into them as he talks, animated gestures narrowly missing his companions.

Connor finds out on accident that when Markus think he’s alone, he hums an indefinite tune to himself, deft fingers tapping snippets of the melody on whatever surface is within reach. It feels intimate and personal and Connor knows he’s intruding on a private moment so he makes a quick getaway. Hours later though, he catches himself humming the very same song as he works on a report and something akin to embarrassment or perhaps guilt pools in his stomach.

It’s becoming a fixation because Markus is captivating to watch but it’s almost not enough; Connor always wants to know more so he can fill the unexplained longing sensation in his chest.

\---

Being caught staring suddenly become a serious problem, even if Connor doesn’t know why Markus is any different than the others he used to study. Sometimes he wonders what his expression would look like when he catches his eyes from across the room but the thoughts are quickly purged from his head the second they materialize. He knows they’ll keep coming back but right now, he doesn’t want answers.

It’s too bad he finds out anyway. (Markus looks at him with a curious shine in his eyes and under that hides a startling kind of fondness- Connor actually considers wiping that memory because it shows up behind his eyelids at any moment he closes his eyes. He can’t bring himself to do it. )

\---

Wherever Markus goes, Connor is always a step behind; this time around, they’re at a celebratory event of some kind, one which Connor faintly remembers receiving an invite to. He’d disregarded it at first but then, after finding out Markus was going, he’d been suspiciously eager to show up.

He doesn’t want to think his behavior is bordering on stalking but it’s inevitable, especially now that his eyes follow a suit-clad Markus as he approaches yet another group of androids that look delighted to have him in their presence. Connor can’t hear what the focus of their conversation is but by the way their lips move, he deduces it’s nothing of great importance. Small talk at best.

Markus seems content however, a polite smile on his face as he nods along, arms comfortably hanging at his sides as he leans against a decorative pillar. Connor expects him to keep taking to the group, almost moves his gaze away for a moment, an action which would have made him miss the way Markus pretends to stretch his neck, his mismatched eyes landing straight on Connor with frightening accuracy the next second. Instead, he meets his look head on, his hands freezing in his lap just like his breath catches in his throat.

His first instinct is to flee so he doesn’t notice the disappointed glint in Markus’ eyes or the hand reaching to beckon him over fall back against his side; most importantly, he isn’t there to see Markus excuse himself and take his leave just a few minutes after him.

\---

When he’s stuck in his head, Connor’s physical reactions become sloppy so it’s not the first time that he almost misses the coin slipping out of his lax grip. It’s also not the first time that he scrambles to pluck it out of the air before it hits the ground, a frustrated noise forming in the back of his throat. He ends up shoving the quarter into one of his pockets for the moment but misses doing something with his hands  to keep himself grounded almost immediately- it’s an irritating loop but Connor doesn’t make any effort to stop it.

What he makes an effort to do is admit that he’s becoming very distracted the longer he doesn’t manage to put a stop to his.. current past-time. He’s considered approaching Markus already but there wouldn’t be much to say; at this point, even talking to him feels forbidden in a way, as if he’s an exhibit in a museum. You can look but you can’t touch.

Another option could be talking to one of his closest companions but then again, what would there be to say? Connor is not against seeking advice but he’s stuck in yet another loop and it throws him awfully off-kilter.

He idly remembers Lieutenant Anderson commenting on the situation after noticing a change in his behavior, or so he’d explained. _‘You in love or something, Connor? Been acting strange lately, always off in your own little world.’_ Hank had said after snapping his fingers a few times in front of his face to grab his attention, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest at how Connor’s eyes had snapped open at the time. He’d considered confiding in the man back then but an urgent call summoning them to a crime scene had cut him off before he even attempted it.

The only viable path he finds is to get over it and be done with everything; it sounds easier said than done.

There’s a sudden pause in his thoughts when he hears footsteps approaching from behind, a steady rhythm that Connor knows but can’t quite immediately pinpoint to a specific person. The balcony he’d chosen to sulk in has no sliding doors leading to it so Connor can see how he could have gotten sneaked up on; he doesn’t even try to justify the reason for his imprudence.

With his fight or flight response already flaring up, Connor attempts to push himself off the railing he’s leaning against to catch a glimpse of the individual but he turns out to be too sluggish to pull that off in time; a pair of _warm_ hands clasp over his eyes and he’s stunned into silence for a good second.

It’s just enough for the stranger to open their mouth to speak and startle Connor into further silence. “So, I hear you’ve been busy lately.” Markus says in the most matter-of-fact tone but it’s not hard to hear the amusement in his voice. His hands remain in place blocking Connor’s vision but there’s no force behind them, giving Connor the option the break free if he wanted to. He stays put for now.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” The second time he speaks, Markus sounds teasing; he doesn’t sound particularly upset but it doesn’t really do a lot to soothe the erratic beating of Connor’s thorium pump. He could be bluffing, he tries to reason.

“ _Connor_.” As if he reads his mind, Markus’ voice softens and he actually sighs, his hands beginning to fall away; Connor is once more greeted by the sight of a dark city, the streetlamps down below illuminating a mostly deserted sidewalk; light snowflakes float in the air. He thinks he could keep watching them fall but Markus’ presence is pressing, compelling him to turn around at one point, albeit slowly.

He’s greeted by a gentle expression, as if Markus think he’s going to bolt at any moment. One of his arms hangs in the air, hovering close to his shoulder patiently, awaiting some kind of permission. Markus is very thoughtful but Connor already knew that.

“You know, there’s better ways to get to know someone. I’d say talking to them is a good start.” And Markus knows, obviously. Nonetheless, it still makes Connor avoid meeting his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I am aware.” He settles for saying, so void of emotion that his own audio processor has a hard time realizing it was his own voice uttering those words. Markus, however, doesn’t look deterred.

“That’s a good start.” There’s a genuine smile on his face as his hand finally makes contact with Connor’s shoulder. It squeezes reassuringly but then slowly, hesitantly, it starts sliding down his arm, ghosting over the sleeve of his jacket until it reaches his wrist where the descent stops abruptly. “We have to know thinks about each other to trust each other, you know?”

He trails off, eyes locked on the spot where his pinky is very gingerly grazing Connor’s hand, the skin already starting to melt off to reveal a soft blue glow over the white plastic. He’s waiting on something and Connor seems to provide it when he unthinkingly moves his hand, just enough so their palm connect.

The skin on his own hand disappears steadily to reveal a matching white hand to Markus’ own and it’s only a moment after that memories start to flood his mind. They’re clearly not his own because he can see himself though another person’s eyes, a peculiar feeling overcoming him when he hears someone say _‘He’s at it again, huh?’_. There’s many more similar memories to follow but one in particular catch his attention.

It’s from the event he’d ran away from before he even got the chance to talk to somebody and in the memory, he can see himself though Markus’ eyes, looking surprised when their eyes lock for a brief tick. Connor can also feel the flare of disappointment that follows before the memory cuts off to Simons understanding face, telling him to ‘just talk to him.’

When he comes back to his senses, they’re still on the balcony and the snowflakes are falling at a faster rate now, landing on their hair and eyelashes before melting away. Markus is looking at him expectantly while dutifully ignoring the way their fingers are tightly intertwined and that they've leaned in, just enough that Connor can feel Markus' breath fanning across his lips and also see the puff of steam rise then dissipate into the cold air.

“Do you want to talk?” He asks slowly, barely above a whisper, allowing Connor enough time to process before he has to give a reply.

“I.. would like that, yes.” It’s the best he can do but Markus doesn’t complain; he just smiles, his lips ghosting over Connor's in a way that he thinks he might have just imagined it before stepping backwards and dragging him along, not once letting go of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> with an alternative ending:
> 
> It's too nice because Markus has to ruin the moment a second later by saying, "By the way, we really need to work on your people skills."
> 
> thanks for reading


End file.
